Sooooo . . . . .got home from NADWCon Tuesday night, fairly shattered after 5 hour flight followed by 1 hour drive, while battling con crud (massive sore throat). Walked in the door about 9:45 pm. Unpacked, mainly to show off treasures and to make sure nothing got forgotten in luggage nooks and crannies. Faced 2-foot high mountain of mail, mostly packages with books and DVDs (yay) but also junk, bills, and business (yuck). Ran out of steam and collapsed before reaching the bottom. Crashed to bed around 11. Arose Wednesday and went to work, urgent care mid-day because I couldn't cope with throat - non-specific pharyngitis - such a
helpful diagnosis, grrrrr, and finally home to collapse in front of dinner made by Mate. To bed, leaving stack of unopened mail because I still felt pretty crap. Arose this morning, having forgotten about mail demi-mountain, and off to work. Later, while at dinner, looked over and realized that there was still a pile remaining, including a large box. Didn't recall having ordered anything
THAT size. Return address = PJSM Prints.

Confusion and suspicion begin to tango. Also guilt.

Could I have bought something ridiculous months ago and forgotten about it (been known to happen). Mate asserts no knowledge, but we have been married for 34 years . . .suspicion begins to lead in the dance, though I still have no idea of what. Set the package on the dining room table, cut away the outer wrapper, and begin to slit open the taped box, whereupon Mate gets a bit distressed and urges me to 'be careful'. Really? Really, now? So I take care to make sure the knife faces away from the contents of the box as I cut. And lo! the box opens to reveal . . . .
The Definitive Good Omens - the illustrated Occult Edition number 370.
(where is the fainting emoji????).Mate now sports a s**t-eating grin. I am stunned, speechless, delighted, overwhelmed. This man has always refused to independently select and buy anything Pratchetty except the original books, particularly if it involved a (any) website in the UK (our VISA cards melt and explode when asked to do business outside the USA). Only Om knows, perhaps he actually made the phone call to avoid the interwebz. It arrived the day I left for NADWCon and he's been sitting on it for over a week.
Don't wanna go to bed now, wanna drool over my new book!